Prince Legolas Thranduilion
by Gil-neth
Summary: Legolas. Prince. How the former learns what it means to be the latter.
1. Chapter One

_Title:_ _Prince Legolas Thranduilion_

_Summary:__ Legolas. Prince. How the former learns what it means to be the latter. _

_Rating:__ PG_

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_Disclaimer:_ _None of the characters or settings recognizable from Tolkien's books belong to me. However, the original characters are mine. ;-) I invented them freely, and if their names (which is quite unlikely, they are elvish, after all…) or occurrences in their lives concur with anything of yours, it is coincidence and not my intention._

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_Author's note:__ This is my first Lord of the Rings story, so please, be kind and don't flame. Constructive criticism and feedback is welcomed, and if you have any questions concerning this fic, please, ask and I will do my best to answer them. Also, if you detect any spelling or grammar mistakes, please tell me. English is not my first language, and even though I do my best, some mistakes always slip through. I don't have an English betareader, so I can only rely on my computer and on what I know. If you'd like to betaread this story, please tell me. I'd be happy to have someone to check what I write._

Chapter One

„Legolas!"

The young elfling froze. „Yes, adar?"

"What are you doing here?"

Slowly Legolas turned around, looked at his father's stern face and took in the grim expression and the usually quite full lips that now formed a thin line. There was no doubt, his father was mad at him.

"I am just…taking a walk…in the wood…between the trees…" He trailed off helplessly, crossing his arms in front of him and looking his father straight in the eyes with a courage that he didn't really have. Why was he even trying to lie to his father? The much older elf could see through his act as if he were an open book, where the truth was written on the page the book had opened on. And he would certainly be only angrier upon knowing that his son had tried to lie to him. And surely enough, the elfling could see his father's eyes becoming mere slits, the muscles on his jaw twitching. Oh yes, his father definitely saw through his lies. Now the young elfling lowered his gaze and stared at his father's chins.

Suddenly the elf turned around and started to walk back towards the palace. Without bothering to turn around he threw a "Come!" over his shoulder. After hesitating for but a moment, Legolas started after his father, having to jog next to the much taller elf in order to keep up with his long strides.

Aronas stayed crouched behind the bush until he couldn't hear the two departing elves anymore. Then he slowly stood up, plucking leaves from his clothes and from his long dark brown hair. He heaved a great sigh. So much for having fun with his best friend. Well, they had had fun – at least until the King had come to take his son back to the palace. They had known that Lord Thranduil didn't want his son to play with elflings from the wood. The Prince was not to socialize with those of lower standing, he was the Prince of Greenwood after all, he had a reputation to preserve.

But at the palace there weren't any elflings of Legolas' age, they were either older and didn't want to have anything to do with one as young as Legolas – be it the Prince or not – or they were even younger than Legolas, in which case the Prince was the one who didn't want to have anything to do with those younger than himself. Another problem with all the elves living in the palace was that they didn't see him as Legolas but as the Prince. When he was around them he could never be just an elfling. Instead he always had to hold himself straight, be quiet, wear fine clothing – not that any elfish clothes were not fine – all in all he had to behave like a grown up and not like the young elfling he was.

At least that was what Legolas had told his best friend, and Aronas doubted that Legolas had lied about this matter. Even though Legolas had a good life, not missing any luxuries, getting all the things he wanted to have, Aronas pitied his friend. He didn't have everything he wished he had, but he at least could play with whomever he wanted, could go wherever he wanted to go without having guards with him and could behave like he wanted. Well, that was not entirely true, there were some rules concerning his behaviour, but in many aspects he led a much freer life than the often admired and envied Prince.

So in order to escape his royal duties and restrictions the young prince had sneaked out of the palace and into the surrounding woods of Greenwood. There they had met on Legolas first excursion and many times thereafter. Sometimes they brought their exercise weapons and trained sword fighting, hand to hand combat and even archery. Since they were both new to all forms of fighting they didn't improve much but that was hardly the point. They just wanted to have fun. But they didn't only train with various weapons; they also played games like hunting each other or animals from the woods, even though they never killed them. Both loved horses and anything that had to do with them, but since Legolas had to sneak out of the palace, which often included climbing, he couldn't bring a horse with him.

They tried to meet every day, but Legolas didn't always manage to get enough free time each day for sneaking out. His father insisted that, as the Prince, he had to know what went on in the kingdom and Middle Earth, how the King ruled and all the other royal duties. Thus Legolas had to learn the Common Tongue that Men used, as well as the dwarves' tongue and many more. He had to study the history of Middle Earth and the forms and cultures of all the different people inhabiting Middle Earth as well as it's geography. When he would be older he'd also have to be instructed in the different forms of fighting, where he'd have to belong to the best because he was the Prince.

Shaking his head to get all the depressing thoughts about his friend out of his head, Aronas turned around and began walking home. He'd come back tomorrow, perhaps Legolas would find an opportunity to sneak out.

ooooo

Finally they had reached the palace, but for the young prince it had been a long walk or rather run. His father had stridden with long steps through the forest, making his son jog in order to keep up with him. The king hadn't given his son one glance, but the elfling saw the rigid tension in his father's shoulders and his stiff back. The king was definitely not in a good mood.

Legolas nearly walked into his father as the older elf suddenly stopped. Looking up, he realized that they had reached the door to his chamber, but his father still didn't acknowledge his presence. Slowly the king reached out and opened the door, then he turned around and finally looked at his son who shrank back at the anger he saw in his father's eyes. But the elfling refused to look down, youthful stubbornness still remaining.

"Dinner will be brought to your room." The voice of his father was chillingly cold. "I expect you to contemplate your recent actions and how you should behave yourself as the Prince instead of as an insolent child. Since you seem to have too much spare time at your hands with which you apparently don't know what to do we will increase your studies. Your energy won't be wasted this way." With this the king turned around with a swish of his dark green cloak and strode down the corridor, leaving his son standing in front of his room.

After staring at the disappearing form of his father Legolas silently went into his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He leaned back against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the door and his knees pulled up to his chest. His arms were slung around his legs as his form started to shake with silent sobs. It would not do if anyone heard the Prince crying.

ooooo

Legolas awoke to the sounds of birds singing outside and the soft whooshing of the trees, and he wondered momentarily why he had woken so early, for the sun had not yet peaked over the distant horizon. Usually he slept longer and only awoke when it was time for breakfast, which didn't take place until an hour after dawn.

But then he realized that this was not a normal day. Even though it wasn't unusual for his father to be angry with him, it was indeed unusual for the king to be as angry as he had been the day before. Legolas' father knew that his son snuck out and played in the woods with other children, for the elfling had occasionally run into guards who patrolled the area around the palace and eventually, when the Prince's presence was desired by his father but the young elf could not be found anywhere on the palace grounds the king sent out guards to retrieve his son.

But never before had the king himself gone out to find his wayward offspring. And never before had the king been so angry about his son's disobeying of his orders, neither had there ever been a severe punishment like what Legolas now faced.

And from the prince's point of view it was a very severe punishment. He already had scarcely any free time in which he could do what he desired, and now this would also be taken from him. It seemed his days would only be consisting of learning: Studying, practicing horse back riding and learning the ways of the court and his royal duties. Well, horse back riding wasn't too bad and the young prince enjoyed everything that had to do with horses. But what he could not understand was what more he needed to learn in that area.

As an elf he loved all living things, as a child he loved animals and especially horses; therefore he had absorbed all that was to know about horses and had eagerly learned how to ride them, which was not overly hard for an elf. He knew how to direct them where he wanted them to go and how to get them to move in the pace he wanted. What more was there to learn? Why did he need to learn how to ride a horse with a saddle and bridle? They were only in the way and uncomfortable for both the rider and the horse. He and his horse had to move in ways that seemed unnatural and didn't serve any higher purpose than to look ridiculous. He always had to sit so straight that it looked as if he had swallowed a stick and his horse had to hold its head with its nose nearly touching its shoulder which couldn't be very comfortable.

This, Legolas thought, was not riding. With 'riding' he associated being one with one's horse, nearly merging into one being, flying through the woods or over fields of grass, feeling, moving and being natural. What he was learning was the exact opposite, and he didn't understand the purpose.

What purposes his other studies had he did understand, however. He was the Prince of Greenwood the Great, the Woodland Realm. Even though they belonged to an immortal race he would, one day, be King when his father either died or sailed west. And as a king he had to know the ways of court, how to rule a kingdom and all that was to know about the other races and kingdoms in Middle Earth.

But as a mere elfling who still had his entire life - which could be very long - before him, he didn't see why his studies should be so rushed. He had proverbially all the time in the world to learn all that he needed to know.

It was just his punishment, Legolas concluded. But he would die before he would let his father see how hard of a punishment it was. The King wanted to have a Prince that lived by the rules, who was only a Prince and nothing else? Fine! He would get what he wanted.

ooooo

tbc…


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Legolas fell onto his bed in exhaustion. The first day of his increased studies had been a hard one and he hadn't had one moment of free time.

ooooo

The morning had been quite ordinary. A servant had come to clean up his room and wake him in time for breakfast which took place in the Great Hall, where every elf that lived in the palace ate their morning meal. He had set to his father's right, as always. But when he had finished with eating there had been the first perceptible change. Instead of going outside for his horse riding lessons, Eregur had taken him to the extensive library of the palace. There they had started with geography. For an endless time Legolas had brooded over maps of distant regions of middle Earth or listened to Eregur drone on and on about the people of those distant lands. Later the prince had been busy with translating texts into different languages, with Eregur leaning over his shoulder and correcting him. From Quenya to Sindarin to Commom to Dwarvish and to the different languages of Men.

Those hours had been a hard trial for Legolas' determination, for he had been bored out of his mind. He couldn't care less for those lands so far away from his home, and he was certain that he would never have anything to do with them and consequently not be in need to converse in their languages. But he was determined not to show his boredom and let his father think that those longer and harder lessons did not bother him.

Instead of having a break, which would normally have followed his first lesson in the morning, he had then been sent outside to the practice fields. When Legolas had heard where his next lesson would take place he had hardly believed his luck. Finally he was to learn how to use all the different kinds of weapons! How long had he waited for this moment? He and Aronas had often played with their practice weapons, which were nothing more than branches they had found on the forest floor and used as swords. One time they had even built bows from thin branches and their own long hair, but their improvised bows had soon broken. Now he would hold a real sword, a real bow and real daggers in his hands and be allowed to use them. This new increased studying wasn't all that bad. So, with a swing in his step that it had been lacking all morning, he had made his way to the practice fields.

When Legolas had entered the large clearing that served as practice field he had taken a look around. In front of him had been a wide field of trampled grass with many elves shooting, duelling, fighting…and riding? The elfling's eyes had been immediately drawn to the galloping animals and their riders. What were they doing on the practice fields?

To his astonishment the riders had had bows in their hands and, as they had ridden past a row of targets, they had shot at them, hitting every single one. Legolas had watched them with wide eyes. Never had he imagined that one could shoot this quick. They had moved so quickly that not even he with his elvish sight had been able to see all their movements. At one moment the arrows had still been in the quivers on their backs, the next moment Legolas had heard a 'plock' and seen two arrows quivering on the targets. And the warrior elves had done all this while sitting on galloping horses!

Soon Legolas attention had been drawn to the elves practicing sword fighting to his left. There had always been three who attacked one other elf. As the three attackers had circled their opponent, Legolas had thought the lone elf would not stand a chance, but as the single elf had been attacked, Legolas had amended that opinion. All four of them had moved as fluidly and gracefully as dancers working their way through a beautiful, intriguing but also dangerous dance. All four of them had never stood still but always moved to the side, back or forward, ducking and jumping, attacking or defending themselves. While the three attackers had worked together and tried to divide the fourth' attention and attack at the same time, the single elf had used each attacker against the other attackers. He would shove one into another, use him as a shield or manoeuvre him into inadvertently shield him from the sword of another.

However, they had held back, and even Legolas, someone who had never before fought in earnest, had realized that. Whenever a sword had reached an elf it had been slowed down and only had nicked him. It had been a little disappointing, but it had not hindered the beauty of the fight.

As Legolas had looked around a bit more, he had seen another group of elves which had been practicing hand to hand combat. They had not used any weapons but only their bodies, arms, legs and momentum. They would use a canny move, shove or pull to throw their opponent over their shoulder, but sometimes the opponent would grab them and pull them to the ground as well, which led to some rolling around and wrestling on the ground.

Legolas had been so engrossed with watching the different fight styles that he had not heard another elf approaching him. He had been quite startled when the elf addressed him.

"My Prince?" Legolas had jumped a little upon hearing his title. To his left a tall elf had been standing. He had long hair, as every elf, and it was braided in the typical Mirkwood warrior fashion with two little braids at the side of the head and one thick, intricate one at the back. His hair was blonde, but of a darker shade than Legolas' and also longer, reaching down to his waist. He had been wearing green and brown clothes, the colors of nature, and Legolas had been sure that if this elf had been standing in the woods and he had been looking for him he would not have him. But since the elf was standing in front of Legolas on a clearing Legolas had not had any problems discerning him. However, as he had moved, he had exhibited an exceptional grace and fluidity of his movements. More so than all the other elves Legolas knew. Must be because he is a warrior, Legolas had thought.

"My name is Dalentar. I will be your teacher in the arts of combat. If you would follow me..."

Dalentar had turned around and started to walk towards the edge of the clearing. The young prince had watched the fighters a moment longer and then followed the older elf. When they had reached the first trees Legolas had watched his instructor walk to a group of big stones piled on top of each other and so forming a small hill. You could sit on several stones that stood out a little bit and could choose between several heights.

Dalentar had climbed to the top of the little hill from where he could watch everything happening on the clearing, and Legolas had followed him. After they had been sitting on a huge and well worn rock for a moment Dalentar began his first lesson, and the elfling next to him had listened carefully.

"Take a look at the warriors here. They are all only practicing to keep up their skill. You see there are different kinds of fighting: hand to hand, with long knives, with swords and with bows. Each warrior, and you as well, has to know all and be able to fight in any way. However, every one will and may choose their favorite weapon and fighting style. But in order to do that they have to know all, the advantages and disadvantages."

"Disadvantages?" Legolas looked at Dalentar questioningly. "I did not know that a fighting style can have a disadvantage. I always thought, the only disadvantage a warrior can have, is his own inferior skill."

"Oh yes, every fighting style has its disadvantage compared to another. The bow may have a wide range, but as soon as the enemy is close it is useless. The time to notch an arrow and aim it is too long. When you are ready to release your arrow your enemy is already upon you. The sword is the heaviest of all the weapons. Even an elf's arm can tire, and as soon as that happens, you are helpless. Also, you can only swing your sword in one direction and to one side. Swing it to the right and your left is unprotected, swing it to the left and your right side is unprotected. If you choose the long knives, you can protect both of your sides at one time, but your reach is not as long as with a sword. So if you fight an enemy who uses a sword he can easily reach you while you can not reach him. If you fight without any weapon, you are most vulnerable, of course, but you have to learn that as well, for it can always happen that you loose your weapon or do not have it near for some reason."

Legolas had listened carefully as Dalentar had taught him many things about the different fighting styles and weapons. Then he had pointed out things about the way the warriors had fought: how they had placed their feet, how they had held their weapons, how they had moved their whole bodies with their weapons or against their weapon's momentum to not be unbalanced. Legolas had been astonished how much you could learn about fighting without actually doing it yourself. He had thought he would be given a weapon and then instructed how to swing and how to aim it. This had been much more boring and at the same time interesting. Boring because he had just been sitting there doing nothing except watching others, and interesting because there was much more to being a warrior than he had thought.

Before, he had wanted to become a warrior because then he would be respected by his father and friends, because he then would be able to impress many others with his skills. But as he had sat there on the hill of rocks, watching the warriors practicing and learning much more about fighting than he ever had thought possible, he had realized, that learning to be a warrior was interesting and fascinating in itself.

However, the eager elfling had still been disappointed when Dalentar had announced that the lesson for this day was over. Legolas had then been sent to the Great Hall where he had taken his lunch, and then he had accompanied his father to the hall where he held court. Legolas had sat to his father's right and listened to the boring talk about politics, agreements with a town of Men, the situation in Mirkwood with Dol Guldur and news of observed orc movement in the Misty Mountains. This part had been so boring that Legolas had had trouble staying awake and focused on the discussion. He had managed to stay awake, but only by letting his thoughts wander to other topics. His time at the practice fields had been replaying in his mind, and he heard Dalentar's voice again, teaching him about the different weapons. But instead of watching the warriors he had been one of them, putting his teacher's advice into practice. What he had not been allowed to do in reality he had then realized in his mind. He had been one of the best warriors, throwing his three opponents over his shoulder, grabbing a sword, defeaing two others, taking up two knives and twirling them through the air, shooting an arrow at a far away aim and hitting it dead center…and being crudely shaken awake.

Legolas eyes had focused as he had woken up from his daydream. To his horror he had found himself sitting to his father's right and in front of the nobles from Greenwood. All the nobles from Greenwood. And they had all been staring at him. To avoid their stares he had turned his head, which had turned out to be a mistake, for now he had been facing the furious glare of his father. He had cowered in his seat, which had suddenly seemed too big and at the same time too small for him to hide in. He had expected his father to shout or to at least reprimand him, but the King had only curtly ordered his son to leave but wait in his chambers.

Legolas had done just that, and he had had to wait quite long. Apparently his father had not been inclined to cut his court short in order to end his son's torment. When his father had finally entered his chambers, Legolas had been surprised that the sun had still been in the sky, for the time he had spent waiting for his father had seemed much longer than it had actually been to the elfling.

Again the King had not shouted. His voice and his expression had been calm, too calm. Somehow Legolas had known that he was only holding his anger in check, and barely at that. But even though his expression had not changed, his words had expressed his anger. They had been clipped as if he had not dared to linger on one word too long and then loose his tight hold on his emotions.

"You embarrassed me. You fell asleep at court in front of Greenwood's nobles. You are the Prince, you cannot allow that to happen. Your people count on you, they expect you to care for them, to look after them, even though you are only a prince and not King. In times like these, when Shadow is spreading from the east, we do not have the luxury to sleep during court. By many people Greenwood is already called Mirkwood, and even though I do not like that name, it is true. The wood becomes darker, evil creatures have settled into Southern Mirkwood, and they, too are spreading. We have to protect our people, and therefore can not rest but be always on our guard. I cannot allow you to sleep during important lessons or waste your time. You have to grow up and learn so you can protect your people."

Thranduil had paused and Legolas had raised his eyes from the floor to look at his father. "It is boring to listen to all the nobles, to debates about weather we should keep contact with a town of Men." The King's expression had not changed, so Legolas had tried one last argument. "And what about me?"

"You are the Prince." His father's voice had not been furious any more; he had just been stating a fact. "The son of the King. It does not matter that you are Legolas, that you are an elfling. You have to fulfill your responsibilities to the best of your capabilities, and at the moment that is to learn. I expect you to do no less."

With that the King had turned around and left the room without another glance at his son.

Only now, that he was alone, standing in his room and staring at the door his father had just closed, had Legolas realized that he had missed his horse riding lesson. But he could not change that anymore, for the sun had been nearing the western horizon and dinner would have been served soon. So he had quickly changed into new clothes and made his way to the dining hall. He would think about what had happened this day when he was alone again

ooooo

After dinner he had made his way back to his chambers. Now that he could finally lie down he was exhausted. Shortly he wondered how that could be, for he had not done any hard work. Mostly he had sat in a chair or on a rock and listened to someone or waited for his father. But having to listen and learn all day without respite was tiring enough, he thought and fell into a blissful sleep, forgetting his troubles.


End file.
